What Makes You Beautiful, Too
by Katrina
Summary: "I'm going to kill him. Slowly…with my bare hands. Maybe even throw in a little torture for good measure." JANE/LISBON. Minor spoilers for end of season four. Companion piece to the story, 'What Makes You Beautiful,' this time from Lisbon's POV. Minor Language. May now up!
1. January

DISCLAIMER: "The Mentalist" is copyrighted to CBS and Bruno Heller. I retain rights to the plot, but not the characters. This story is meant for enjoyment purposes only. No infringement is intended.

AUTHOR: Katrina

TIMELINE: Set some in the future after series four finale. Minor spoilers.

SYNOPSIS: "I'm going to kill him. Slowly…with my bare hands. Maybe even throw in a little torture for good measure."

**A/N: Happy New Year everyone! As you probably guessed, I've decided to go ahead and write Lisbon's POV for now. It's more to get me back into the swing of writing again after a short break, but also because I had a few requests to do so as well :) Here's hoping that I can get into Lisbon's head good enough for you all to like it :)  
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**Onto the story...  
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**WHAT MAKES YOU BEAUTIFUL, TOO**

**January 2nd – 4.54pm**

I'm going to kill him.

Slowly…with my bare hands.

Maybe even throw in a little torture for good measure.

There's not a judge in the whole State of California that would convict me for it. In fact, they'd probably give me a slap on the back. Erect a statue in my honour. Let me run for office. Maybe even elect _me_, Teresa Lisbon, as the first female President…all because I got rid of my pain in _everyone's_ ass consultant, Patrick Jane.

The man's a certified menace.

I'm pretty certain he's got a diploma for it hanging up on the wall in that damn attic he uses.

"…his disgraceful behaviour and I want Jane to apologise to Senator Carlton or you're on two weeks suspension effective immediately, Agent Lisbon, do I make myself clear?"

The sudden threat in my ear brings my office surroundings back into sharp focus as I discard my enjoyable daydream and concentrate on the words being almost shouted at me down the phone.

"Yes, Sir. I understand completely. I'll make sure he does that as soon as possible," I automatically assure my superior with more confidence than I feel.

"See that you do," comes the curt rejoinder before I hear a click followed by a loud hum.

I replace the handset with more force than is necessary and stand up. I walk out of my office in search of my consultant and am not at all surprised to find him lounging on that piece of crap couch of his. They're so inseparable I'm amazed he doesn't take it with him to make his goddamn tea.

I welcome the surge of renewed anger as I watch him laying there without a care in the world and a stupid smile on his face, while I've just been torn off a strip for the past ten minutes about his irresponsible behaviour.

Again.

"Jane!" I bark out loudly as I come to a stop by his side. As usual, he doesn't respond which just annoys me more as well he knows.

"Jane! I know you're not sleeping. Get the hell up and into my office! Now!"

I give his couch a kick just to stop myself from hauling him up by his hair more than anything else. I need to vent my frustration somehow.

I get _some_ satisfaction from the involuntary wince he gives when I strike his baby but it's not enough to stem my temper. Especially when he cracks open one of his eyes and then proceeds to make an elaborate show of 'waking up'.

"Oh, were you calling me?" he asks, a picture of innocence, but I know him too well.

It grates that he takes such obvious pleasure from goading me but that's not why I can suddenly feel my fury rising even further. Oh, no. What aggravates me more is _my own_ stupid reaction every time I see those so, _so_ blue eyes of his staring at back me with warmth and amusement. It's just not right that I should feel a tingling sensation right down to the tips of my toes as if I've got some kind of schoolgirl crush on the class bad boy.

Because I haven't. I don't.

We're just friends. Although even that's debateable lately.

"You're an ass," I tell him irately before I turn and walk away.

The thing is I'm not quite sure whether my comment is directed at him…or myself.

I go back to my office and sit down to wait. He'll follow me eventually, even though I know he'll take his own sweet time about it. Annoying the hell out of me is what he does best…second to catching criminals that is, and it's why I'm forced to keep him around.

It's for the good of the Unit and the CBI in general. He closes cases and beyond that I have no interest in him whatsoever. None at all…because I know he's going to leave soon.

That's why I've not bothered to try and repair our friendship. What's the point?

He's got his revenge on the serial killer, Red John, who brutally murdered his wife and child and now he's just sticking around until he sorts his life out. I don't blame him. After obsessively chasing his nemesis for over a decade, there's bound to be a huge void to fill…it's just taken him a bit longer than I'd first thought it would.

But I can see he's getting antsy now. There's been something…off about him these past couple of weeks or so. I know Christmas has always been a hard time for him but it seems to be more than that. Like he's planning something. Something big. Something like walking away for good.

And I'm absolutely fine with that. Really.

OK, so obviously the fact that our closure rate will drop is a concern, but after all the hell he's been through, he deserves some happiness. And if nothing else, I truly do wish him that.

I know what a really good, kind man he is behind that cold mask he likes to wear. There was even a time once when I thought that he and I might…but that was before he left for six months; before Lorelei and all the other things he did to get Red John.

It was during that time after he came back from Vegas that I finally, really understood that he would do absolutely _anything _to get his family's killer.

It scared me if I'm honest. _He_ scared me. The way he acted, the more and more outrageous and dangerous things he did…the hurt he caused.

I realised I'd gotten too close. Allowed myself to have feelings for him…thought that he might care for me too.

He even told me he loved me at one point.

I'll never forget that moment and not only because he pretended to shoot me afterwards, but because I honestly thought that he felt the same way about me as _I_ did _him_.

I guess when he conveniently forgot I should have taken the hint.

Well, I _did_ when I finally got to speak to Lorelei. Nothing says, 'You mean squat to me,' more clearly than hearing how the guy you cared about jumped in the sack with another woman. A woman who was sent by the very murderer he was trying to catch no less.

It was painful.

I'm nothing if not resilient though. I soon packed up those unwanted emotions and threw them out with the rest of the weekly trash. It was a momentary lapse of sanity to harbour anything other than a passing tolerance to Jane and I soon had my defences back up in place.

They haven't been down since…no matter how much he's tried to find a weakness. And believe me, he's tried. But I won't give in. I can't. I'm not stupid enough to leave myself open to that kind of hurt over the same man a second time. Not when I know he's going to disappear one day just like one of those stupid magic tricks he's so fond of performing.

Now you see him, now you don't…ever again.

Kind of like now.

Where the hell is he?

I grip the arms of my chair tighter. I absolutely will _not_ go out there and call him again. I catch a glimpse of his blond curls heading my way from the break room and force myself to relax. I can be calm about this. I'm not going to let him see that he's got to me this time. He enjoys it far too much.

"It's about time," I hear myself grumble and really just want to slap myself upside my head. I can't even hold out for a few seconds.

He gives me one of his infuriatingly smug, but strangely endearing smiles and I shake my head in annoyance to cover the fact that butterflies have just taken flight in my stomach. He places a mug of coffee down on my desk then settles himself in the chair opposite me holding his own steaming cup of tea.

At least I know what he's been doing for the last five minutes. He probably thinks the drink will get him back in my good graces.

Like hell it will.

I watch him take a slow sip of his drink and welcome the ire I can feel rising within me that he can be so uncaring of anything…or anyone…but himself and his little games. We're all just amusing playthings to him. I have to remember that, otherwise I'm in real danger of letting myself be pulled back into feeling things for this man that I don't want to. I have to protect myself and there's no better way to do that than using my anger as a shield…or a weapon. Depends what the situation warrants.

"Just what the heck were you thinking this afternoon?" I begin, pleased that the question comes out reasonably calmly.

"What do you mean?" he replies acting innocent.

He takes in another mouthful of tea and I have to quell the urge to snatch the cup from his grasp and fling it across the room. I hate it when he deliberately plays dumb.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean," I tell him, unable to stop the annoyance coming through in my voice now.

He shakes his head and then gets a look on his face that's supposed to make me think that he's _suddenly_ just caught on to what I'm talking about.

Aggravating jerk.

"Oh, you're talking about the fact that I helped bring yet another killer to justice," he says, wilfully misunderstanding me.

"No, I'm talking about the fact that you pushed Senator Carlton into the that mud hole!" I exclaim, losing the battle to keep my temper under wraps.

"Meh…collateral damage," he dismisses blithely. Just like my job, apparently. Then he has the gall to add, "And he had it coming. He wouldn't leave you alone."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his usual white knight tendencies.

"He was upset and I can handle men like him myself," I remind him heatedly. I've had this conversation with him before. He never seems to listen. I think he forgets just who saves whom in our team. "I don't _need_ or _want_ you to stand up for me, Jane. How many times have I told you that?"

He says nothing but I catch a tightening of his mouth that betrays his displeasure at my words. At least, I _think_ it's displeasure until I see small smile bloom on his face and then I've finally had enough.

I welcome the fury that surges through my body, heating my blood as I stand up and lean across my desk to confront the arrogant ass.

"You think this is _funny_?" I query without waiting for a reply. "Because I don't! As usual _your_ actions have landed _me_ in trouble. If you don't apologise to the Senator, I'm on suspension for two weeks. Effective immediately."

I draw in deep breaths as I try and get my temper in check again. I swear my blood pressure has gone through the roof and yet from the way he simply looks down and takes another unconcerned drink of his tea, I wonder why I even bother trying to get him to do the decent thing. I know by now that he doesn't care…especially when it comes to people like Carlton.

The worst of it is that part of me can't help but be just a little bit pleased at his actions. I wanted to shove the Senator into that muck myself. He was a pig, not only to me but his deceased wife as well from what I can gather from the witness statements.

It doesn't make it right though.

I watch Jane finish his drink then place his cup and saucer on my desk with a nod of his head, like he's come to a decision. Knowing him it's probably that Carlton can go to hell, along with my job.

"OK, I'll apologise."

You'll _what_ now?

I can feel my body actually go into shock. Patrick Jane agreeing to apologise? I must have misheard.

I sit back down into my chair as I stare at him in complete amazement.

"Excuse me?" I say incredulously.

"I'll apologise," he repeats, talking to me as if I'm a child.

I'm so surprised that he agreed that I can't even find it within me to be annoyed by his tone.

It's almost too good to be true…

Then it hits me. It's just another one of his mind games. Something to get him out of the current situation because he can't be bothered to argue with me anymore.

"Are you playing me? Because I don't like being made a fool of, Jane," I reproach suspiciously.

"How on earth am I playing you if I say I'll apologise?"

He has the audacity to look bewildered but I've seen that fake innocent expression too many times to be taken in now.

"By telling me you'll do it then not following through, leaving me feeling like an even bigger idiot for allowing myself to start to have a little faith in you again," I reply curtly.

Suddenly, I just feel so incredibly tired of it all. Why doesn't he just go so that I can get the hell on with my life? This waiting game just isn't working for me anymore.

I let out a sigh and sit back into my chair with a shake of my head. Perhaps if I just ask him right out, I'll get a straight answer for once. It's worth a try.

"Why are you even here anyway?"

"You asked me in here," he replies wryly.

I mentally count to ten and try again. Clearer this time so that there's no doubt to my meaning. I'm through with dancing around the subject, however much I know it'll hurt to hear his answer.

"Not in my office, but the CBI? Why haven't you left yet? I thought that with Red John gone you'd be off making a new life for yourself. It's been over four months, Jane," I point out gently, although I'm certain he doesn't need reminding.

"I know how long it's been, Lisbon. I can count," he informs me, his curt tone telling me that I've struck a nerve.

It startles me a little to see an expression of hurt fleetingly cross his features. He's usually so guarded and I find it's of no comfort to realise that he seems to feel some pain about his decision too. He's had enough of that to last a lifetime.

I silently watch him stand and pick up his cup and saucer. I still haven't had any verbal confirmation of his intentions but from just that one look I know I'm right in my assumptions.

It hurts more than I thought it would.

"Set up that meeting with Carlton. I'll apologise. I'll even do a dance if that's what he wants," he mutters, not looking at me.

I take his offer for what it is…a goodbye. Before he goes he'll do this one last thing for me. It's a bittersweet gesture, but then everything between us has been that way from the day we met. Why change now?

He looks at me then, pinning me with his amazing blue eyes as he parts those lips that just look too full and too soft to be allowed on a man and I find my breath catches and jaw literally drops at his next words.

"Just don't tell me that you're _expecting_ me to leave you ever again, Teresa. Trust me, I'm not going anywhere…whether you _like_ it or not. I'm _hoping_ you do, but if you don't…I'm a patient man. I can change your mind."

I don't even realise he's gone until the soft click of my door shutting brings me out of my shocked haze. I watch him walk to the break room, my mind whirling at his words as one thing he said keeps pushing its way to the forefront of my thoughts.

He said he's not going to leave me. Leave _me_. Not the CBI. Not the team. _Me_.

I'm not one to be all girly but I have to admit that I think my heart just gave a little flutter. But does he really mean what I think…I hope he means? Or is the fact that I'm _so_ relieved he's staying making me read too much into it?

I don't know and at this moment I don't even think I care. I can puzzle it all out later at home. Right now I just have to make him understand that I'm glad he's not leaving.

I can see him staring back at me through the window of the door and before I can talk myself out of it, I get up and grab my mug of now cool coffee. I leave my office and go to the break room but he looks away before I can say anything and now I feel a little awkward.

The kettle whistles as I pour my drink down the sink and I move closer to him on the pretence of wanting a tea as replacement. I study him out of the corner of my eye as I make my drink but it seems he's determined to ignore me and I feel some of my courage melt away. I pick up my mug and turn to leave but only make it as far as the door before I turn around again.

I'm a woman who can take down a guy double my size. I should be able to say a couple of words to my consultant for heaven's sake.

"Jane," I call and he looks up at me immediately. His gaze is warm and, dare I think, tender? I feel my cheeks growing warmer and try to smile but I'm so nervous all of a sudden that my face doesn't seem to be responding properly. "I _do_ like it," I manage to force out softly.

I turn away quickly after my admission and go back to the sanctuary of my office, making sure to close and lock the door behind me. I put my drink down on the desk then sit on my chair and let out a groan as I cover my face with my hands. I just need a few moments to come to terms with what I just did.

After everything I've promised myself over this last year about not letting him get too close, about keeping my guard up, about not allowing myself to feel anything for him, he simply tells me he's staying and I just go and fling the damn door wide open and invite him back in again.

What is _wrong_ with me?

Why did I do it?

One little word worms its way into my brain but I reject it forcibly. It can't be true. I won't let it be.

I am not now, nor will I ever be in love with Patrick Jane…no matter what happens from now on, I'm going to make damn sure of that.

END CHAPTER 1

**A/N: Please let me know what you think - always happy to hear and I'll always get back to you if you've signed in :) I'll be posting as and when for this story because, let's face it, if you've read the first one you know how it ends, LOL!  
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**I'm also going to start posting a brand new fic called, "Redwood" soon. It's Jane and Lisbon again, as they're my favourite pairing, so please do keep an eye out for it if you like my work.  
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	2. February

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, I honestly didn't expect to get that many for this fic so it's been a lovely reward :)**

**Apologies for not replying to reviews so far or getting my chapters up quickly but my Dad is in hospital at the moment and I've been having trouble finding the time to be honest but I shall do my best to reply soon.  
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CHAPTER 2 – February

3rd February – 8.15pm

This is all Jane's fault.

I just knew that when he agreed so readily to say sorry to Senator Carlton that it wasn't going to be that easy. I'm not that lucky.

Naturally, Jane was as obnoxious in his apology as the Senator was in his rant about my consultant afterwards. It just made the situation worse, not better and I'm the one who got left to clean up the mess as usual.

I'd been suitably placating and understanding and had even come up with an alternative arrangement involving this charity auction tonight just so that Jane could keep his job…not that he'd thank me for it.

I have to admit, I did kind of feel as though I was selling my soul to the Devil when I shook hands with the Senator, but I had a plan. A good one I thought. One that meant I wouldn't have to go through with the agreement I'd made with him.

True, I'd still have to go out for dinner with whoever won me this evening, but that was fine because I knew it wouldn't be that lecherous reptile. Jane would never allow it.

Only tonight isn't turning out quite how I'd expected it.

Typically, Jane's a no show so far and I have to go backstage for the auction now.

Damn it!

I was so sure that when I told him specifically not to come, he'd do the complete opposite. What a time for him to finally start listening to me for once. That's Jane for you, predictably unpredictable.

I glance over at Cho who is sitting at the bar, but he merely shakes his head. I wanted him in on the plan because I knew he'd give Jane _just_ enough information to set off that white knight tendency of his. Although I find that particular trait annoying at times when we're out in the field, I must confess that I can't help feeling a little flattered too. What woman in her right mind wouldn't be?

I glance around the hall again but there's still no sign of that infuriating blond head of his and I have accept that I'm going to have to go through with the bargain I made after all.

Speaking of which…I catch sight of Senator Carlton and see that he's staring right at me. His gaze roams hungrily down my body and I can't help but feel slightly nauseated…and violated.

I look back at Cho and think I see a glimmer of sympathy pass over his face but I could be wrong. It was probably wind. He and Rigsby had Taco's for lunch.

I give him a small smile then turn and head for the back of the staged area. At least it's for charity. Something good will come out of all this even though my stupid plan has failed.

The auctioneer takes to the mike and gets the ball rolling. I'm fifth on and the first couple of winning bids have been quite high; two, even three hundred dollars. I wait patiently through the next couple of people then hear my name being called and take a deep breath before walking quickly out onto the stage. I just want this over with now. Every eye in the place seems to be on me. I hate being the centre of attention and as much as I'd like to brazen it out, I just stand here next to the auctioneer feeling awkward as all hell.

Maybe I should do a pose or something? Seemed to work for Ellen Curtis in accounting just now. Councillor Johnson bid nigh on a thousand dollars for her…which I'm sure won't please his wife. Maybe if I pout a little or something, someone might outbid Carlton.

"Two thousand dollars," the Senator calls out when the bidding starts and I feel my stomach, along with my hopes, drop like a stone.

I force a smile to my lips and begin to think of all the ways I can get Jane back for this. Oh, I know he wasn't aware of what was going on but that doesn't mean I can't still make his life hell on Monday morning.

The auctioneer begins to wrap things up and as he's about to bring the gavel down to announce that I'm 'sold' it feels like he's dishing out a death sentence rather than dinner with one of the most prominent men in the state.

"Three thousand dollars."

I think my heart has just stopped. I'd know that voice anywhere. Hell, it haunts my nightmares…and my dreams often enough.

I search the crowd before me and there he is, standing next to the Senator and staring back at me, all rakishly handsome in that navy suit of his that's hands down my favourite. It brings out the colour of his eyes…

Suddenly, I feel an incredible surge of annoyance that he's left it to the last minute to turn up. If he'd just arrived at the start like a normal person, I wouldn't be standing here right now. I really have to curb the urge to march right down there and punch him on the nose for making me go through with this embarrassment.

Senator Carlton looks at Jane and my anger grows even more when I see the dazzling smile my consultant gives him. Warning bells start going off in my head. I know that look too well; it means trouble.

"Four thousand dollars," says Carlton, obviously displeased at being outbid.

"Five," retorts Jane almost immediately. From his face, you'd think he was talking about cents, not thousands of dollars.

I can't believe this is happening. My idea was that Jane would get rid of Carlton before the auction started, not have this public bidding war over me. Where the hell is he going to get that amount of money anyway? He better not think he's going to borrow it from me.

I notice the Senator lean in and say something to Jane. Whatever it was, Cho doesn't like it and neither does Rigsby as both men seem to surround him suddenly. There appears to be some kind of altercation between them then Carlton walks off looking absolutely livid.

Which is exactly how _I_ feel right about now.

If I've had to humiliate myself in public like this, I'd better well still have a job at the end of it. There's no way I'm going to cut another little deal with Carlton again, that's for sure.

"Sold to Mr…?" the auctioneer says as he slams the gavel down.

"Jane. Patrick Jane."

Like he's James Bond or something. If only. I wouldn't have to save his ass all the time then.

The auctioneer hardly has a chance to let me know I can go when I'm already off the stage and heading for my prey. I barely register the fact that Cho and Rigsby are no longer there and vent my fury on Jane the moment I'm close enough.

"What the hell was _that_?"

"You're welcome," he replies with that damn grin of his.

I feel my hand twitch and clench into a fist. I'm so tempted right now.

"_Jane_," I warn him harshly.

"It's fine, Lisbon. Don't worry, we merely persuaded Senator Carlton not to bid for you, that's all," he tells me with a dismissive wave of his hand.

I knew it. I'm screwed. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I feel the first stirrings of the usual bad headache I get whenever I'm around Jane and his crap for too long. Actually, this one has come on _so_ quick that I think this is a record, even for him.

"Oh, God; I'm going to get suspended, aren't I?" I say, resigned to fact.

The feel of his hand on mine is unexpected and I immediately open my eyes. His touch is gentle and warm and I enjoy it far more than I should.

"He won't bother you again, trust me."

Trust him.

He throws the words out so carelessly as if it's that easy. But it's really not. Not after the way he's treated me…all of the team in his desire to catch Red John. It doesn't work like that.

I let out a small sigh. This really isn't the time or place to be thinking about it. I look back down at where our hands are still joined and pull mine from his hold. I immediately feel bereft at the loss of contact and can't help wonder when my life became so contradictory and difficult. With the answer standing right in front of me, looking disappointed at my withdrawal, I know there's only one thing left to do in this situation.

"I need a drink," I tell him before setting off for the bar.

I hear the gavel come down on another auction lot as I sit on one of the barstools. It's only a couple of hundred dollars but it brings back into focus why I'm here and I gratefully accept the diversion rather than wasting any more time on thinking about the past.

Naturally, Jane has followed me and before I can even open my mouth he's ordered us drinks.

"You know you're going to have to pay for this, don't you?" I say, voicing my concern about the amount of his winning bid.

He looks puzzled for a moment then replies, "I thought it was a free bar."

Is he deliberately being a jerk or has he really forgotten that he just, very publicly, won me for _five thousand_ dollars? Doesn't that mean anything to him? Not that I _want_ it to of course, because I'm _not_ interested. But even so…

"Not the drinks…I meant the auction…you know…_me_."

Oh, good Lord, could I have sounded any more self-conscious and needy? Great, now he's looking at me as though I've grown another head and I can feel my embarrassment warming my cheeks.

"Oh, that. I can afford it," he answers with an uncaring shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, you're worth it."

If my face felt hot before, right now it's positively burning. I hold his gaze, completely unable to look away. What the hell did he mean by that? His tone implied that it was just a throwaway compliment, but his eyes…his eyes are saying something else.

Before I have a chance to figure out what exactly though, a man interrupts us and hands Jane a clipboard. The moment gone, I turn to my glass and down my drink in one go. The alcohol burns a trail down my throat but I barely notice it as his words go over and over in my head.

Suddenly, everything clicks into place. Why didn't I see it before? Ever since the incident with the Senator, I've not had even half the complaints I usually get about him. Then there's been the odd donut from Marie's left on my desk, coffee from my favourite coffee shop, not to mention he's hanging around my office a lot more…

Jane's trying to be friends again; like we used to be before it all went to hell.

I feel the first stirrings of guilt wash over me that it's taken me this long to figure it out. He's alone and his revenge is over. _I_ was the one that took that from him and then, because I was trying to protect myself, I took our friendship away from him too.

What kind of horrible person am I?

I allow myself a moment to wallow in self-recriminations and guilt then I determinedly push them all aside. At least now I realise what's going on I can do something about it. I can meet him halfway because, if I'm honest with myself, I've missed our friendship too.

"Will you dance with me?" he suddenly asks, holding out his hand to me.

I hadn't noticed the auction was over, nor that the lights had dimmed and soft music was now playing. My first inclination is to refuse. The mood is more romantic than friendly but then I remember the time we danced at that school reunion and I know I'm just overreacting.

Friends dance together all the time. Right?

He's looking at me with the most disarming smile and I can't help but respond in kind as I place my hand in his and let him lead me onto the dance floor.

He takes me in his arms and I hear him sigh as I automatically wind my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder. The warm, spicy tones of his aftershave hit my senses as his arms tighten around me and, for just a moment, I allow all those feelings that I usually keep firmly locked down free rein as I close my eyes and let myself enjoy the heady sensation of his body against mine.

We're moving as one and I don't ever want to let him go.

But I know I have to. I can be his friend but I can't chance more.

"So, where are you going to take me for dinner?" I ask as I finally find the will to look up at him.

"I thought that was _your_ choice," he replies as he stares back down at me with a smile.

So it was. I suddenly remember my plan and gratefully grab onto it to drag myself onto safer ground.

"I made that a condition so that Carlton couldn't take me back to his place," I reveal with a shake of my head.

"I knew you'd set this whole thing up. Please promise me you won't do anything like this again, Lisbon. I'm not worth it."

Oh, but you are to me.

How I wish I could tell him that. Tell him that he's always been worth it. Tell him that I see the real man he is beneath that mask of detachment he wears to hide his pain. But I can't. Instead I trot out the standard reply because that's what he expects.

"You are, Jane, because you close cases. I need you on my team," I say almost automatically.

He seems as sick of hearing it as I am of saying it but then I can't stop my smile as I finally let him in on the rest of the con.

"Besides, I had everything planned," I add flippantly. "I knew when I told you not to come tonight you wouldn't listen. I didn't think you'd actually bid for me but I knew that if Cho said the right things, I could count on you to do something so that Carlton wouldn't win."

"I'm impressed," he says and I can see he's clearly telling the truth. "Plus, the charity gets a nice little donation out of it. Win, win situation all round."

"It is," I agree, quite pleased with myself at the way things had turned out, after all. "And it was nice to finally get one over on _you_ for a change."

I know I shouldn't gloat but I can't help it.

"Oh, you did. Apart from _one_ little thing."

I immediately stop dancing then pull back and look at him with a frown. What the hell is he up to now?

"And what's that?" I query warily.

Instead of answering me, he takes my hand and stares at me so intently that I think he can into my soul. His gaze is so mesmerising that I can't look away and my breath literally catches when I realise his intentions. He slowly raises my hand to his mouth and gently kisses it in a courtly gesture that, although outdated, somehow just seems so right for him.

Perhaps he really _is_ my white knight after all.

His lips are warm and soft and I can't help but wonder how they'd feel against my own. A second later I think I might actually find out when he pulls back with a smile then leans back towards me again. I feel a bubble of anticipation well up inside my chest only to have it burst disappointedly when he moves past my cheek and stops at my ear.

"Cho stepped in too early," he whispers conspiratorially. "I would have paid double."

I can't stop my gasp of surprise at his admission, nor control the heat I can feel invading my cheeks when he grins, squeezes my hand then turns away.

What the hell?

"Wait, what about dinner?" I ask, because that question is on a lot safer ground than demanding to know what that kiss meant.

"No rush, Lisbon. You can choose when you're ready. Or not. Just let me know. I'll be waiting."

He walks away with a smile and I stare after him suddenly feeling more than a little worried. Not about _his_ actions. I mean, if it were any other guy, I'd swear he'd just been flirting with me. Jane, however, lives in his _own_ world with his _own_ rules so I know it doesn't really mean anything to him apart from how much of a reaction he can get out of me.

No; my concern comes from the fact that I can still feel the sensation of his lips on my hand and the warmth of his breath on my ear. I can still smell his tangy aftershave that clings to my clothes and my skin from where we danced together so closely.

But worst of all, I can still feel the love for him that I've been so desperately and unsuccessfully trying to suppress.

I let out a soft sigh of resignation.

I am in deep sheep dip.

END CHAPTER 2

**A/: Hope you all liked it :) Let me know what you thought. March up soon, I hope. **


	3. March

**A/N: A big thank you to everyone that reviewed the last chapter, Guests and named reviewers alike :) Sorry for the delay on this one but it was tricky to write from Jane's POV and Lisbon's has proved no easier, LOL! **

**Anyway enjoy...March**

CHAPTER 3

March 6th – 2.15am

God, what a night.

I slump back against my apartment door and let out a heavy sigh. I feel exhausted. Though that's hardly surprising since I've just spent the best part of the night in hospital.

It wasn't for anything much; just a little car accident for goodness sake. A prang really. Heck, I've had worse on the job. I was on my way home when some stupid kids who'd had too much to drink decided they wanted to go for a joyride. Thankfully, due to the driving skills training days I've been on, I was able to avoid them…for the most part.

I dread to think what could have happened if I'd been just a shade slower in my reflexes though. Could have been a nasty.

Could have been fatal.

My heart thumps a little at the thought but then I brush it aside. Everything's fine. _I'm_ fine. The car's…well, I'm annoyed with myself that I wasn't _quite_ quick enough for them to avoid catching the side of it. That dent will be expensive to get out.

Obviously, because of the nature of the incident, the local uniform were involved. A couple of young guys who were keen to do everything by the book which included ensuring the hospital called my named contact…Patrick Jane.

Don't get me wrong, I know it's standard procedure and everything but it was absurd considering my injuries. I've only sustained a sprained wrist and a couple of bruises to my face for crying out loud.

So, I tried to stop them. Flashed my badge even. But they didn't listen.

And now I don't think I'll _ever_ forget the expression on his face when he first came into my room. In hindsight, I think I'm going to change my named contact to Cho.

I mean, I was expecting some mild concern, a sardonic comment or two about my driving and even a good-natured grumble about taking him away from his beloved couch.

What I _got_ was a man who looked scared to death…absolutely petrified. I don't know what the hell they'd said to him over the phone but he'd obviously thought the worst.

His relief was palpable when he saw I was OK, but then I had to give my statement to the police. He's not stupid. He understood just how bad my accident could've been even though I tried to play it down.

And then I saw it. The detachment. The withdrawal. It was in his eyes and on his haunted face. He was pulling away from the situation…from _me_, just as he did the closer we got to catching Red John all those months ago. It's his defence mechanism, a way to protect himself from getting hurt, I know that. But distancing himself is also what almost broke our friendship in the first place. We'd been doing so well getting back to how it used to be, I didn't want to see that ruined by some unthinking idiots who should've just taken a cab.

I wanted to say something. Comfort him in some way, but there was too much going on and all I could do was watch as he all but faded back into the hospital walls and refused to meet my gaze.

At least he offered to bring me home. I was pleased about that. I thought he was going to make an excuse and leave, but he didn't. Not yet, anyway.

I tried to talk to him in the car but with my adrenaline rush gone and the painkillers I'd taken, I was pretty wiped out and ended up falling asleep. Now I have no choice but to leave it until the morning when I'm in better shape to deal with what I think I know is coming.

I push away from the door then walk slowly across the room. I don't bother with the lights, I can see well enough from the glow of the streetlamps outside. I glance out of the window before I head upstairs and see that his car is still parked outside.

Odd. I thought he'd be long gone by now.

I move to the window for a better look and can see him sitting in there, head bowed. He cuts such a lonely figure that I have a sudden, unfamiliar urge to out there and just give him a hug. I even take a couple of steps back towards the door but then the car headlights come on and he pulls rather speedily away.

I stare out the window for a few more seconds and can't help but wonder if he's going back to the CBI or not. By the looks of him I doubt he'll get any sleep, wherever he decides to go tonight.

I turn away and head wearily upstairs. I forego my usual nightly routine and opt for lying straight down on my bed. I'm so tired I think I could sleep for a week.

I turn on my side and let out a sigh as I close my eyes. As I lie here, three things soon become apparent. My cheek hurts. My wrist hurts. And I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking about Jane.

Wait, does that last one count as two?

I don't know.

I turn over to my other side but that only aggravates the bruising on my face, so I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling.

He's going to run, I can feel it in my exhausted bones. Only as far as the attic most probably, but at this particular moment in time, I'm really not sure I have the fortitude to deal with going through all that crap with him again…even if I _do_ love him.

I close my eyes and shake my head slightly. It still feels weird admitting that, even in my thoughts, but ever since the night of the auction I've given up lying to myself. Problem is, I've been denying it for so long, it's almost as if I'm committing some heinous crime by even mentally acknowledging such a thing.

Still, as long as he never finds out, it'll be fine. And I'm good at hiding it. I've being doing it for years. Even from myself.

Take that for translucence, Mr. I-See-All Mentalist. Not quite so good as you think you are, huh?

OK, I'm rambling. Too tired.

Time for sleep then I'll go in early tomorrow…_today_, and go up to that damn attic and let him know I'm not going to stand for that crap anymore.

Decision made, I find that I feel more relaxed than I have in hours and soon feel my eyelids start to droop. I don't fight it and it's not long before everything around me fades away.

It's six a.m. when I awake. Apparently my internal clock won't let me sleep in, even after an eventful night. I'm grateful for that because it means I can still get into work early and have time to speak to Jane.

I get up and have a quick shower then get dressed. My wrist feels a little better but the bruising on my face has really come out now. Great.

Since I don't have my car, I call for a cab and it's not long before I arrive at work. I make my way through the quiet building and take the elevator up to my floor. I step out and head along the corridor only to see Jane standing there, looking on edge and as though he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I stop a few feet away and my heart goes out to him when I notice the dark circles beneath his tired eyes. Any closer and I think he'll bolt. Or be sick judging by the way his face has just paled. He's staring at my cheek and I can guess what he's thinking…_what if? _ In fact I'll bet he's been doing that ever since he left me.

"I didn't expect you to be here," I say, deciding to cut to the chase.

"I could say the same to you," he replies.

He tries to smile but just looks so miserable that I really want to hold him tight.

"I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me that a little time and make up won't fix," I dismiss, hoping that he'll see the truth of my words. Right now, I'm more concerned about him. He looks dead on his feet. "What about you? Did you even get any sleep after you dropped me off?"

I get my answer when he looks down, unable to meet my gaze any longer and I let out a sigh. I _knew_ it. But that still didn't stop a tiny part of me hoping against hope I was wrong. I wish I knew the magic words that would make this all go away but I don't, so I have to rely on what I know best. Candour.

"Look, I know you were scared last night, Jane, I was too. But I'm here and I'm OK and right now I'm far more worried that you've spent all night thinking yourself round in circles and are going to start pulling away from me again. I didn't like it the last time and I won't put up with it now. We've gone past that, haven't we? I thought we were friends again."

"We are," he's quick to assure me and I feel a little better for that. I'm still not completely convinced though.

"So I didn't just catch you trying to leave before I turned up then?" I ask dryly, knowing the answer but wanting to hear from his own lips.

He has the grace to look a little guilty but then shakes his head and says, "I was just about to make myself a cup of tea. Why don't you go to your office and I'll get you a coffee too?"

I look at him a moment then nod my assent. I don't believe him for a second and I certainly wouldn't put it past him to send me on my way so that he could slip upstairs to the attic anyway.

"I won't be long, I promise," he then says and I guess I'll just have to take his word for it.

I head into my office and switch on the lights. Leaving the door open for Jane, I go to my desk and sit down on my chair before opening my bag and retrieving the compact mirror, cover powder and brush I've brought with me from home. I tuck my hair behind my ear then move my head a little to get a good look at the bruising in my reflection. I think it's got even darker. I take the brush and dab it liberally in the powder before tapping off the excess.

Before I can begin, Jane walks in carrying our drinks. He places them in front of me then, instead of taking the chair opposite as I'd expected, he perches on the corner of my desk right next to me. I do my best to ignore the fact that I immediately notice the way the fabric of his trousers tightens across his thigh and simply offer him a small smile of thanks for my drink before forcing myself to stare back into the mirror.

I just wish I could remember what I was supposed to be doing.

"It doesn't look that bad," Jane proclaims blithely.

Ah, yes. That's it. Concealing the bruise.

"It doesn't look that _good_," I retort with a grimace.

"I'm just glad you're OK. When I got that call last night…"

He stops talking and I look up to see the most unusual sight of my consultant lost for words. I can't help but feel a pang of guilt for having been the one unknowingly responsible for putting him through such an upsetting experience.

"Jane…" I begin, ready to apologise.

"You were right just now," he cuts in quietly. "I _was_ going to run away, to distance myself, all those things I usually do."

I go cold at his admission. "So why didn't you?"

"I'm still waiting for that dinner I won at the auction," he replies after a pause.

I should've expected the response really. He always uses levity as protection when he feels he's revealed just that little bit too much information about himself; but my disappointment is acute at his offhand answer and I look away, determined that he not see. I have to remember we're just friends in his eyes. Nothing more.

The silence stretches on between us and I've just decided to carry on with my attempts at covering this bruise when he says something that completely floors me.

"To be perfectly honest, Lisbon, I stayed because…I don't _want_ to be that man anymore."

My heart gives a little lurch. Does he actually mean that? I search his face for an answer and for once he's letting me in. Letting me see the truth of his words. He _wants_ to change. That's huge and I just feel so happy for him.

I start to grin but my cheek protests vigorously at the sudden movement and I end up grimacing against the pain instead. I turn my attention back to the mirror and lift the brush to apply a dusting of powder when I suddenly find my hand empty.

What the hell, Jane?

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask in annoyance. That was a perfectly good brush he just threw in the bin.

"You don't need that, Teresa," he tells me. I barely have time to register that he's used my first name when he reaches out and trails his finger gently down the side of my injured cheek until it comes to a stop under my chin. "You look beautiful…as always."

I do? I mean…what? I mean; I don't know what to do…or say…or think. I can feel my face growing hotter. The way he's looking at me, like he's about to…Oh, God.

My eyes shut as soon as I feel the first tentative touch of his lips against my skin. My heart thuds hard in my chest as he leaves a trail of little kisses that are so barely there, I begin to wonder if I'm just imagining this whole thing and he's really sitting there drinking his tea. Why is he doing this? My cheek is tingling from his touch so much that it takes me a moment to realise he's finally stopped and pulled back.

I belatedly open my eyes and try to hide how much he's affected me by saying the first thing that pops into my fuzzy head.

"Is that supposed to make it all better?"

Apparently, levity in an awkward situation isn't just Jane's specialty.

And really, I have no idea if I mean my cheek or the fact that he's decided not to distance himself anymore. A bit of both, probably.

"No, but I think…I hope that it's a start," he replies softly and my heart does that little lurch again.

He's obviously talking about his decision and if this is how he plans to go about it then I have to admit, although my head is trying to caution me about his actions, right at this moment my heart is all for it.

"It is," I proclaim with a half smile.

He's still touching my face and as I continue to stare into his amazing, toe tingling, warm blue eyes I have to quell the urge to lean forward and finally have a much longed for taste of his lips.

Down the hall, the elevator dings and I can hear the sound of the team arriving for work. Jane gives me a rueful smile then removes his hand and stands. He picks up his drink then moves away while I turn and switch on my computer.

"Morning, Boss," Cho greets from the doorway as is his norm. I turn to acknowledge him and when he sees my face he steps into the office. "What happened to you?"

I glance at Jane who seems very interested in his tea all of a sudden. I'm loath to go through it all again with him still here because I'm a little worried that hearing all the details once more might have him backtracking. He's got form for that.

Still, there's only one way to find out I guess. I explain to Cho about the accident and his expression remains stoic throughout.

"Sounds like you did well to avoid them. Glad you're OK," he comments with a nod then leaves.

I look over at Jane and he's still staring at his cup, his expression faraway and I suppress the feeling of dread that pools in the pit of my stomach. Have I lost him after all?

"You OK?" I ask, trying to remain calm.

He looks over at me as though I've just woken him from a daze and then I'm treated to one of his brilliant smiles.

"Never better. You?"

I am now that I know he's still with me.

"I'm good," I say then stop as I decide whether I should call him out over his actions or not. It didn't get me far the last time, but then words are much easier to brush aside than a physical act. "About what happened…"

"Yes?"

He's quick to prompt me but I'm suddenly not quite sure what or even _if_ I should ask. I still remember how I felt after he forgot he told me he loved me. What if he dismisses what he did out of hand as nothing or worse, apologises?

The one thing I've learned with Jane is that you can never take anything he does at face value. You have to look and look and then look again.

I've just decided I'll leave it when Cho walks back into the office and looks at the pair of us quizzically.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asks.

I guess he can feel a certain tension or maybe it's the fact that he caught us staring at each other, either way it brings me back to my senses.

"No, of course not," I reply briskly as I give him my full attention. "What is it?"

He lets me know of a new case that's just come in and despite my best efforts to remain focussed entirely on what's he's saying, I still notice when Jane quietly leaves the room. When Cho has finished apprising me of the specifics, he goes and I get up and head to the break room.

I'm certain this is where I saw Jane go and I reach the doorway just as he turns to leave. I still don't want to ask him outright why he did what he did but I figure that maybe I can gauge his intentions by spending some time with him.

"So…when we close this case, how about we have that dinner you paid so much for?" I ask, adopting a casual tone.

"Sure. It's a date," he replies easily with another of his megawatt grins and I just know I'm blushing furiously.

I manage to smile back then turn and retreat swiftly to the sanctuary of my office. I know it's just a saying and I shouldn't read anything into it but that didn't stop my heart giving a little flutter of anticipation at his words.

At this rate, I swear I'll have a coronary soon. I knew that man wasn't good for my health.

Now I have a few minutes to myself, I sit down at my desk and take a sip of my tepid coffee as I try and reason out everything that's happened in the past half hour. It feels like I've been caught up in a whirlwind with all my emotions buffeted about all over the place as I try and ride out the storm that is Patrick Jane.

Unsurprisingly, the one thing that I keep coming back to is the way he kissed my cheek. I can rationalise most things that take place between us as either being 'typically Jane' or 'his idea of friendship'.

But I'm not naïve. Those wonderfully tender kisses were neither.

And suddenly that confuses me. No, scratch that…it _frightens_ me.

Because loving Jane when he's emotionally unavailable is safe. I like safe. I don't get hurt…much.

Loving Jane when there's a possibility he's starting to feel some kind of attraction back? That's a whole different ballgame…and one I'm not sure I want play.

Because I know he won't ever love me.

He can't.

Not when he's still, after all these years and Red John gone, wearing his wedding ring.

Not when he's still in love with his dead wife.

That path leads to destruction; to me falling so deep that I don't think I'd ever be able to crawl back out when he's done with me…and I just _know_ that day would come.

So, do I go with my heart and say to hell with the consequences?

Or do I listen to my head and protect myself? Pretend nothing really happened?

The heart wants what the heart wants they say…well it can get in line; today my head is going to win.

END CHAPTER 3

**A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think :)  
**


	4. April

**A/N: Huge thanks to Sue Shay, Water-please, Mossi.b, Tina, , Guest, xanderseye, Lalalupin and Jisbon8D for leaving a review for the last chapter - I really appreciate it :)**

CHAPTER 4

April 8th – 11.10am

"Care to make a little wager on that, Lisbon?"

The words are said in light enough tone but I can see the challenge bright in Jane's eyes and glance around the bullpen at the rest of the team who are watching us with great interest. He's done it on purpose because he knows I won't back down…especially when there's an audience. Besides, this case is a done deal, there's no way he could possibly win.

"You're on," I say, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

He plasters one of those diabolically irresistible smiles on his stupidly handsome face and clasps his hands together as he bounces up and down in barely contained glee.

"Excellent! Name your culprit," he instructs, jabbing a finger in my direction.

"Are you serious?" I query in disbelief. "Victoria Henderson was found with the gun that was used to kill her husband. She _confessed _to shooting him, Jane."

"So you're saying Mrs. Henderson _killed_ her husband?" he clarifies, his grin not diminishing one iota.

"Yes, Jane, that's what I'm saying," I concur sardonically as I fold my arms.

"OK," he comments with a nod of his head. "Well, it's a good deduction but you're wrong, Lisbon. It was Quince."

"The _dog_?" I splutter out incredulously before I let out a snort of laughter.

"You may mock, but trust me, behind those pleading soft eyes of his there's a natural born killer."

I chuckle again and shake my head. "Fine, Jane. You stick with that. I'll see you later after I win. I just hope you remembered your wallet for once."

His grin widens, if that's possible, and at the risk of my legs giving way at the sight, I decide it's best to go back to my office now.

Once there, I sit at my desk and firmly put Patrick Jane and his damn smile out of my head while I work diligently on finishing up a couple of overdue reports. A little over an hour and a half later, I receive the autopsy results for the Henderson case and place the file to one side until I've finished up what I'm doing.

After twenty more minutes I'm done and it's only then that I realise the time. My office door opens just then and in walks my still smiling consultant with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other. He must have read my mind.

"Thanks," I say gratefully as he puts them down on my desk. "I was just going to stop for lunch."

He nods then glances down at the file that's perched on the edge of the table.

"Is that the autopsy results for Henderson?" he asks curiously.

"Yeah, I haven't had a chance to read it yet," I reply before taking a bite of the sandwich. It's chicken salad and it's good.

He looks at me searchingly and I know he's trying to work out if I'm lying or not. I gaze back at him and he eventually nods.

"OK, well, I'll be waiting outside when you do," he tells me affably then leaves my office and goes back to his couch.

I finish my sandwich then pick up the Henderson file and begin to read. I'm so certain of what the contents are that it takes me a few seconds to fully process what I'm actually seeing.

Cause of death is listed as an epidural haematoma from a blow to the head several hours prior to time of demise.

I can't believe it. There must be some mistake.

I close the autopsy report with a snap then pull Henderson's case file out and open it up. I quickly scan through the family statements of the events leading up to Victoria Henderson shooting her husband and let out a low groan as it merely confirms what I'd thought. An innocuous accident was behind his death. Who knew that tripping over your dog and banging your head on the kitchen counter corner could have such dire consequences?

I let out a sigh. It's good news for the wife, but torture for me because I know I now have to face Jane and his gloating…but not just yet. I'm sure I've got other things to keep me occupied for a little while.

I manage to hole myself up in my office for another hour or so but there's a report I need to give back to Van Pelt. I can't hold onto it any longer so I finally get up and leave the sanctuary of my office.

"Ah, Lisbon, there you are. Have you taken a look at the Henderson results?" Jane asks me as soon I walk into the bullpen.

He's staring at me expectantly and I'm not sure if it's the fact that he's so damn cocksure of himself or that I'm too damn stubborn to admit defeat, but the lie trips out of my mouth before I even realise I'm saying it.

"Not yet."

I drop the folder on Van Pelt's desk and turn to leave.

"Yes, you have," I hear him contradict lightly.

I stop dead in my tracks and turn to look at him. I feel my face start to grow hot but tell myself it's down to anger that's he's actually calling me out on it in front of everyone and not guilt over the fact that he's correct.

"_What_ did you just say?" I ask, going on the offensive.

"Oh, please, it's been over an hour since I brought you that coffee and sandwich. You honestly want me to believe that you haven't read through it at least _once_ since then?" he points out in such a reasonable tone that I want to punch him on the nose.

"I don't give a rat's ass _what_ you believe," I retort angrily.

"Obviously," he agrees with a nod of his head as he gets up from his couch and walks over to me. "That's why you're not even attempting to give me a credible excuse."

He's so close that I catch the scent of his aftershave. It's the same one he'd had on when we danced together at the auction and I'm immediately reminded of how it felt to be held in his arms.

"I was right, wasn't I?" he says breaking into my reverie. "The dog did it."

I take a step back and shake my head. It's more to dispel the memories in my head than disagree with what he's said. Why do I keep doing this to myself?

"Get lost, Jane," I mutter as I turn and walk quickly away. It's wishful thinking on my part to hope that he won't follow me but I've always been an optimist.

"Lisbon, just admit you were wrong!" he all but shouts down the corridor as he hurries to catch me up. "Come on, you'll feel much better, I promise you."

The heck I will.

"No!"

"Lisbon," he whinges in a most childishly annoying way.

"Shut up!" I tell him as I enter my office and shut the door with a resounding slam.

It feels good to vent a little anger and I take a deep steadying breath only to let it out sharply when I hear the door opening behind me. I turn quickly and my irritation increases a notch or two as I see him blithely walking in.

"If the door's shut you're supposed to stay on the _outside_," I tell him angrily.

"Since when?" he asks, looking genuinely surprised.

I barely restrain myself from wringing the insufferable man's neck. I don't know why he gets such pleasure from aggravating me so much. I don't know why I keep letting him.

"Since forever, Jane," I retort dryly.

Nice come back.

"It doesn't matter, I'm here now and we're alone so you can just admit that I won. None of the team need ever know if that's what you want. My lips are sealed. I promise," he assures me then raises his hand to his mouth and pretends to lock it before throwing away the key.

If only it were that easy. I'd give a million bucks to the first person that could make that dream a reality.

"Oh please, don't make promises you can't keep," I tell him as I sit down on my chair. I need to maintain some distance. "If you kept your mouth shut more I'd have a lot less paperwork and a whole lot pleasanter life."

"I'm wounded, Lisbon, truly," he says, doing his fake hurt routine. "Is it just that you don't want to pay me the forfeit? Because I haven't even told you what it is yet. You might find you like it."

I _doubt_ that.

"No, it's because there must be some _mistake_," I retort, finally having enough of this conversation. I don't even care that I've tacitly admitted that he was right. I just want him gone from my office. I deliberately turn my back on him and look at my computer before ordering sternly, "Now, get out!"

He does as I ask and opens the door, but too late I realise that he's leaving too easily.

"Alright fine, I'll go, but your refusal to admit you're wrong doesn't set a good example to the rest of the team. I'm disappointed in you, Lisbon."

His voice is so loud I just know it carries to the bullpen. I turn and give him my most threatening glare and he simply smiles back at me unperturbed. He's lucky he leaves just then because I have a heavy stapler to hand that would make an excellent projectile.

I stare blankly at my computer screen for a few minutes while I slowly calm down then let out a sigh. I know I'm going to have to suck it up sooner or later and just go out there and pay him his stupid forfeit. He's such a kid at times.

My eye catches the stack of files I have yet to sign off so I pick up the top one and read the name. McLean. My stomach rolls a little as I immediately recall what the case was about. An abusive father. There were so many echoes of my own youth that there were times I wasn't sure if I'd be able cope until we broke the case.

Jane noticed of course. He kept hovering around me like I was a piece of china that was about to crack and shatter at any moment. And he was right to be concerned. Some days were tougher than others, but as much as I would have liked to have leaned on him, he still has so many issues of his own that I just couldn't bring myself to burden him with mine as well. It wouldn't have been fair. So I did the only thing I knew how; I closed myself off from him. The more he concerned he got, the more I pulled away. I know it bothered him, but it was necessary.

I quickly flip to the back page then sign off the end of the report without reading through it again. I know what's in there; I really don't want to dredge up those unhappy feelings once more.

I place the folder on the other side of my desk, starting a new pile then grab the next folder from the stack. I try and concentrate but Jane's words keep ringing in my ears and I know I won't get any work done until I've paid my dues. A bet is a bet after all, even if I have ended up looking pretty stupid.

I stand up and leave my office then march along the corridor to the bullpen. I ignore the rest of the team and come to stand in front of Jane who looks up at me with a friendly smile…the jerk.

"OK, you were right. I don't know how you figured it out but apparently tripping over the dog the day before and cracking the side of his head is what ultimately killed him," I say, unable to keep the embarrassment out of my tone.

"Which means?" he prompts.

Ass. He's going to make me say it.

"Which _means_, you win, Jane," I reply, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice but I don't think I succeed too well.

"Time to pay the forfeit," says Cho suddenly.

I shoot the traitor an angry glare but he remains unmoved as usual. Still, he has a point, so I pull my wallet out of my pocket and open it up with a sigh.

"OK, how much?" I ask, resigned to the fact now.

"Oh, I don't want your money," Jane tells me slyly and all the alarm bells labelled 'Arrogant Ass' start clanging loudly in my head.

"What _do_ you want then?" I query, absolutely sure I don't want to know the answer.

"I'll have a think about it and let you know later," he says with a grin before turning his back on me and settling down on his couch to sleep.

I guess this is payback for chucking him out of my office.

"Jerk," I mutter before I walk away.

I go back to my office, stopping to get a coffee on the way. I sit down at my desk and look at the pile of files without enthusiasm. My mind wanders to what Jane could possibly be planning then I shake my head and tell myself firmly that I'm not going to think about it anymore. With renewed vigour, I grab to top file and begin to read.

I work methodically and am quite pleased that my thoughts don't keep straying to Jane…much. It's not until Van Pelt and Rigsby pop their heads in to say goodnight that I think to check the time. It's later than I expected and I begin to wonder why Jane hasn't been in to see me yet. He's not one to let humiliation of another person pass him by.

"Goodnight, Boss," says Cho from the doorway and I look up with a smile.

"Night, Cho. Don't forget we've got that meeting with Dooley tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock, OK?" I remind him and he nods.

"Sure thing. I'll see you tomorrow."

He leaves and I resume my work, only to be interrupted moments later by Jane coming into my office. I curse myself for automatically tensing then force myself to relax and continue writing.

"Don't you ever knock?" I ask by way of acknowledgment.

"What is it with you and doors today?" he retorts indignantly. "First I'm meant to stay outside and now I'm supposed to knock? It's like I'm in The Twilight Zone."

"It's not the door I have a problem with," I answer airily as I sign another report.

Out the corner of my eye, I see him walk around to my side and then he unexpectedly holds out his hand. I stop writing and look at it in confusion. What the hell's he playing at now? I look up at him and he grins back then waggles his fingers. Realising what he wants, I contemplate the foolishness of my actions even as I put my pen down and clasp his hand.

"What?" I query dubiously as he pulls me up out of my chair.

"I've decided on your forfeit," he tells me delightedly and my stomach drops like a stone.

"What is it?" I ask warily.

I swear to God if he wants me to do something illegal, I'll kill him.

"Dinner," he says to my relief but then he suddenly points to his lips and adds, "And one kiss…right here."

Although my heart skips a beat at his demand, I find I'm so shocked at his gall that I can't help but laugh.

"You're kidding, right?" I enquire in disbelief. Damn cheek. "No! I won't do it."

"The dinner or the kiss?" he questions seriously.

"Both!"

"You do disappoint me, Lisbon, I never figured you as someone to renege on a bet," he comments nonchalantly.

I know what he's doing but he's not going to win _this_ battle.

"I don't renege on bets unless they're used to _coerce_ me into doing something I don't want to do!" I retort sharply.

"Oh, come on, where's the harm? Live a little. It's not as though it means anything…right?"

Not to you, maybe. But to me?

"…No," I belatedly assent when I realise I've not answered straight away.

I can feel a betraying heat invading my cheeks at my lie but I refuse to look away. Hopefully he'll just think it's a little warm in here.

"So what's the problem?" he queries softly.

Oh, God. Where do I even start?

"I'm paying for dinner and a kiss won't cost you anything," he adds as he takes a small step closer to me.

"Except my dignity," I automatically retort. If I insult him perhaps he'll drop this whole stupid idea.

"You know, Lisbon, I'm beginning to think that your refusal to kiss me is because you know that once you start, you won't be able to stop," he suddenly challenges.

Conceited a comment as that is, it's just close enough to what I fear is the actual truth that my face flames and my internal defences spring right back up into place.

"Go to hell!" I snap, pulling my hand from his grasp.

Instead of backing off as I expect, he takes another step nearer to me. The smell of his aftershave wraps itself around my senses again and I have to physically force myself to stand my ground. The air seems to crackle between us with something I'm too scared to put a name to right now and although I don't move, I need to look away.

"Do you want me to take my toothbrush this time?"

I've never been so grateful for his levity than right at this particular moment. The tension drains slowly away from my body, leaving me feeling tired and achy. I return my gaze to his and can't help but respond to his disarming smile.

"Maybe an overnight bag?" I suggest wryly.

His smile widens and then he says, "About dinner…"

"I'm sorry but I can't tonight, Jane, I've arranged to meet up with an old friend," I cut in with an apologetic smile.

It's a complete lie but I can't face being on my own with him tonight. There's only so much resistance I can put up on any given day and I think mine is pretty much tapped out.

"Oh?" he comments lightly.

"Yeah, I haven't seen her in months otherwise I'd cancel. Can I take a raincheck?"

I'm concerned that he might see through my deceit so I busy myself tidying up and turning off my computer so that he can't get a good read on my face.

"Of course. What's one more?"

There's something in his tone that brings me up short and I turn to look at him curiously. He seems a little…hurt. I feel bad for refusing him now but I can't go back on what I've just said because I know he'll try to find out why…and I don't want him to know.

"I do want to have that dinner, Jane," I hasten to assure him. "I know it didn't happen last time, but that McLean case…it got to me and I just…"

I trail off unsure how to put into words what I feel about that whole mess of a case without getting too upset.

"You don't have to explain, Teresa, I understand. Really."

And he does. I can see it in his eyes. I give him a quick nod then go back to sorting out my desk. I feel, rather than see, him leave my office and let out a quiet sigh of relief. I finish what I'm doing then look at the three remaining files that are still waiting to be signed off. I know I should go now if I'm to continue my ruse, but the senior agent in me can't leave those reports unsigned…especially when I know I'm really going home.

As quick as I can, I read through and sign them off then head out of my office.

"Goodnight, Lisbon, enjoy yourself this evening," Jane calls out to me and I turn to see him lying down on his couch, obviously settling in for the night.

Seeing him there all alone sends another wave of guilt crashing through me. It's my fault he's on his own this tonight. I wasn't even brave enough to have a simple dinner with him. Being his friend, I should have at least agreed to that.

And as for a kiss…well, a bet _is_ a bet after all and if this is the only time I'll ever get to feel his lips on mine, maybe I should just take the opportunity when I've got the perfect excuse to do so.

Without even realising it, I'm halfway to the couch before I've even consciously made my decision. His eyes are closed so I let my gaze roam avidly over his reclining form while I have the chance. I can feel my heart start to speed up the nearer I get as the enormity of what I'm about to do hits me. At least I can blame my folly on the wager…even if I know I'm lying to myself.

I come to a stop by his couch and he suddenly opens his eyes. He looks surprised and before I can talk myself out of it…or he opens his mouth to spoil it, I bend down and touch my lips to his. It's quick and it's sweet and when I pull back, it seems like the most natural thing in the world for me to lean back in and taste him again.

His hand goes to the back of my head, gently holding me in place as he returns this kiss with more ardour than the first. My heart seems to be beating out of my chest and my body ignites into instant arousal. I want him. Badly. But as much as I want to just lay down next to him and stay all night, I have to remind myself that this is just payment for a bet. Nothing more.

I break away and stand up, trying to gain control over my breathing and wayward thoughts. I'm gratified to see that he looks as flushed as I feel and his soft, full lips are parted slightly inviting me back in again. And God, I want to do it…so very much. I want to muss up his hair and kiss him senseless; touch his body and make him know he's mine.

But then I'm brought back to earth with a resounding bump as I catch sight of his wedding ring and realise my dreams will never become a reality. Oh, I'm sure I could sleep with him if I set my mind to it, but he'd never be _mine_. Not really. Not ever. And as much as I respect his feelings for his dead wife, I don't want to be second best.

I gather my wits about me and belatedly realise he's looking at me expectantly; awaiting my next move.

"I…uh…I told you that I don't renege on bets," I finally say, wondering if it sounds as trite to his ears as it does to mine.

"And I told _you_ that you wouldn't be able to stop at just one kiss."

Apparently it did. But I welcome his arrogance; I know how to deal with that. It's safe ground. I frown then give his couch a half-hearted kick for good measure before I turn and walk away. It's what he expects from me, after all.

"Goodnight, Teresa," I hear him call after me brightly.

His tone just confirms to me that our…moment didn't affect him nearly as much as did me.

"Ass," I retort unhappily.

I reach the elevator and press the call button then wait impatiently for the door to open. When it does I glance over at him one last time and he gives me a wave. I get into the cabin and all but collapse against the side as it begins its descent.

My body still tingles and I press my lips together remembering how wonderful it felt to finally kiss the man I've secretly loved for years.

But for my own self-preservation I know this is as far as it can go.

I've sated my curiosity and now I can forget it and move on.

Except, I know I can't and I won't and for the first time in my life I honestly don't have any idea what the hell I'm going to do.

END CHAPTER 4

**A/N: Thanks for reading! As always, please let me know what you think :) **


	5. May

**A/N: Goodness me, have I really not updated this fic since February? That's awful, I'm so sorry for those of you out there reading this :(**

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews I've had so far, I just hope you continue to enjoy the story now I'm devoting more time to it :)**

CHAPTER 5

May 11th 8.32am

I kissed Jane again last night.

There was no payment of a bet involved; it was a proper, 'I had a great evening, let's do this again' end of a _date_ kind of kiss.

Just thinking about it, and believe me I have done _all_ night, makes me feel a little giddy inside…but it also makes me feel a little scared too.

Part of me would love to be able to blame it on the wine but I only had a couple of glasses. Not nearly enough for me to realistically absolve myself from my actions.

I wasn't even being impulsive. I thought about it then I did it.

That man just has the most irresistible lips…

But still, what the hell am I doing? What the hell is _he_ doing?

The line that defined our friendship has been blurred, scrubbed away almost and I hate not being able to figure out what it all means.

The things he's been saying, the way he's been acting, it tells me he maybe after something more…but I just can't help wondering if it's real?

Or is it a kind of twisted rebound thing?

I mean he has no one else after all. And there's even less to occupy his mind and time now that Red John is gone. So, what if he's just mistaking his feelings of friendship for something deeper? Testing the waters of a relationship with me because I'm here and I'm safe before he dumps me then heads off into the sunset with the next future Mrs. Jane?

But then again, I know there's always been an attraction between us…hasn't there? Or is that just wishful thinking on my part? Am I just transferring my feelings onto him because I want so much for it to be true?

A car honks its horn behind me and I give a little start of surprise. I quickly raise my hand in apology and pull away from the traffic lights. It's a Saturday but we've been called out to an abduction case in the suburbs.

Another wealthy politician that wants the best team on the case and ever since we caught Red John that's us now. When I say _caught_, I mean _killed_ of course. I did that. Shot the son of a bitch in the head and denied Jane his vengeance. I don't regret my actions, but I have felt guilty about them ever since it happened. All those years he'd searched and plotted and schemed and in a split second I took that final moment away from him.

The look he gave me afterwards would've turned Medusa to stone. I'll never forget it.

When he told me last night that he hated me at one point for doing that, I was shocked. Not that he felt like that, obviously…no, I was shocked that he actually admitted as much to me. And that he apologised.

He was so sincere, so determined for me to see that he didn't hold it against me. He even said he was trying to move on. That has to mean something, right?

Yeah, of course it does, Teresa. It means that as _friends_ he wants to say sorry for being such an ass all those months and he hopes I can forget about it.

I let out a huff of frustration and shake my head. I need to stop thinking in circles about this and focus on our new case. It's not like he's proclaimed his undying love for me or anything. It is what it is and there's no way I can figure out what _it _is right at this minute so I'm not going to try anymore.

I pull up to the address I've been given and see a couple of uniforms outside. I get out and look around for Jane's contraption but I'm part relieved, part disappointed to not see it already parked illegally somewhere.

The butterflies that had been threatening to take flight in my stomach settle down. I know he'll turn up eventually, I just thought that after last night, he'd be here a little quicker this morning, that's all.

I show my badge to the policemen standing by the door and they nod at me as I go into the house. Well, it's more of a mansion really. The central staircase is impressive even by these standards and I should know, I've seen my fair share of them over the years.

I'm just debating which direction to go when Cho comes out of a room on the right.

"Boss," he greets with a curt nod of his head.

"Morning, Cho, what have we got?" I reply.

"Robert Green aged seventeen didn't come home last night. His stepmother, Sylvia Green, reported him missing this morning then she got this ransom demand."

He hands me an evidence bag with a piece of paper that has letters cut out from a magazine pasted onto it stating a large sum of money, the name of a local park and a time that's a little less than four hours away.

"This was hand delivered?" I query with a frown. Something feels off here. It seems too amateurish.

"The maid said she found it on the step outside the door when she arrived this morning," Cho replies impassively.

"I'd better speak to the stepmother," I say as I hand the note back to Cho. "We need to get that to the lab."

He takes it back then glances at the door he'd just exited and says, "Mrs. Green is in there. Jane's with her."

"He's _here_?" I ask and cringe inwardly at the strange squeaky, breathy tone my voice has just taken on. Maybe it's from all the wind those damn butterflies suddenly create as they take flight in my stomach.

Cho's eyes narrow slightly then I swear I can see the hint of a smile touch his lips as he replies, "Yeah. I stopped by the office on my here and he hitched a ride with Rigsby and me. You, okay? You look a little flushed."

His change of subject is so swift it takes me a moment to realise what he's said and then to my frustration I feel my skin heat up even more.

"I'm fine," I tell him firmly as I give him an annoyed look.

His stares back at me unfazed and I notice his eyebrows rise ever so slightly before he nods. "Okay."

With a shake of my head I walk past him and go to the room he indicated then open the door. The sight that greets me is not one that I expect _or_ welcome but on the bright side it kills the butterflies stone dead.

Jane is sitting on a couch, far too close for my liking to a blonde woman that looks to be in her mid to late twenties. I should have known Sylvia Green would be a trophy wife.

One perfectly manicured hand rests slightly too high on his thigh as she leans towards my consultant giving him a very good view of her ample cleavage.

She obviously likes _older_ men.

And I'm sure there's a law against wearing such a skimpy top in public. I'll check on that when I get back to the office.

Her smile is predatory and Jane, damn him, is smiling devilishly right back at her. I know he's probably just using his charm to get her to talk and I've seen him do it a thousand times before, but I have to admit, after last night it stings to see him looking at another woman like that.

He looks up, obviously having heard the door open but instead of appearing contrite, his smile widens even more.

I frown back at him but this only seems to delight him even further as he pats the witch's hand and says, "Ah, Lisbon, good, you've arrived. I was just speaking to Sylvia here and I've solved the case."

"You have?" both I and the suicide blonde trophy say incredulously at the same time.

He nods then removes the harpy's hand from his person and stands up.

"I just need to talk to the maid," he explains as he walks towards me.

As he draws level, he gives me a warm smile. A genuine one that reaches his eyes and affects me far more than the false, calculated megawatt grin that's designed to dazzle that he gave _her;_ so much so that it takes me a few seconds to register that his fingers gently brush over mine on his way past to the door. My hand tingles at the gesture and to my exasperation the butterflies are revived.

"Uh, excuse me, I'll be back in a minute," I say with forced politeness to the woman still seated on the couch, then turn and leave.

I step back out into the hall and look for Jane but I can't see him anywhere. For a man who spends most of his life lying sedentary on a couch, he can move remarkably quickly when he wants to.

I guess Cho must be arranging for the note to be sent to the lab because he's not in the hall anymore. I hear Jane's muffled voice coming from my right and follow the sound until I walk into a bright, airy kitchen with a large island worktop in the middle.

Rigsby is standing off to the side and gives me a nod of acknowledgement before returning his attention back to where Jane is speaking to the maid. She looks a little younger than Sylvia Green and from her defensive posture and stony expression I can tell she's not happy about what Jane is saying to her. As usual though, he knows exactly what buttons to press to antagonise the suspect into a confession and soon the whole sordid tale comes tumbling out.

It was all about the money, of course. Robert hates his new stepmother and thinks himself in love with Marla. Seeing the chance to take advantage, she encourages his infatuation and persuades him to go along with a fake abduction telling him that she cares for him too, that they can run away and have a life together.

I wonder how the poor kid will feel when he finds out that she was actually going to take the money and run off with her boyfriend instead?

Still, at least we know that he's holed up at her place, safe and sound. Cho and Rigsby take Marla back to the CBI while Jane and I go and fetch Robert. Although it's not far, it's the first time we've been alone since last night and I can't help but feel a little bit nervous.

He's quiet at first then out the corner of my eye I see him turn to look at me.

"I had a nice time last night," he says breaking the silence. "I forgot to tell you that before you went into your apartment. I got a little…distracted."

I can hear the amusement in his voice and feel my cheeks begin to heat up. Trust him to bring it up now.

"I did too," I reply primly without looking over at him; then just to clarify I add, "Enjoy the evening, I mean."

I hear him chuckle before he remarks, "Good."

When nothing more is forthcoming I chance a glance at him and see that he's looking out of the window. There's still a wry smile on his face but apparently that's the end of the conversation.

Sometimes I just can't figure him out.

Thankfully we arrive at Marla's apartment building and after I park up we go in. The young man is understandably upset and reluctant to go home but I finally manage to persuade him. After a silent journey back, the reunion between stepmother and stepson is as awful as I expected but at least he's home and I can close the case once I get back to the office.

I see Jane talking quietly to Robert in the hall as I take my leave of the Green residence and it pleases me to see that the young man appears happier than I've seen him in the past hour. I go and wait in the car and it's not long before Jane saunters out of the house himself and joins me.

"What were you two talking about?" I ask as I pull away from the sidewalk and move off swiftly down the road.

"Oh, the usual in these situations," he replies lightly. "That he's got his whole life ahead of him and although it hurts now, one day another woman will come along when he's least expecting it and he'll fall in love again."

"It's good advice," I tell him with a smile.

He's doing that more and more now that Red John is gone. Taking an interest in other people and trying to help them. I like it.

"It's the truth," he states.

There's something in his tone that makes me look at him and I find that those amazing blue eyes are staring intently back at me. I feel my heart begin to thud and even _I_ can hear my breathing getting heavier as I gaze back at him trying to decide whether he's saying what I _think_ he's saying.

"Look out!" he exclaims suddenly as his eyes dart away and widen.

I turn back to the road in time to see another vehicle stopped ahead of me and slam on the brakes. We screech to a halt and now my heart is thudding and my breathing is heavy for a completely different reason altogether.

That was close.

I have a flashback to a couple of months ago when I had my accident and can feel my body start to shake. I know it's nothing like what happened but it doesn't stop me gripping the steering wheel so tightly that I'm sure my hands couldn't be pried off even with jackhammer.

A sudden warmth envelops my right hand and I look down to see Jane's ring glinting in the sunlight as he gently tugs at my fingers, coaxing them to loosen up. To my surprise they do and when they're free he continues to hold them for a few seconds until I look over at him.

"You okay?" he asks, concern clouding his eyes.

"Yeah," I reply automatically and try to pull away. Not only am I shaken up but I'm also mortified that it happened because I was too busy staring at _him_.

"Are you sure?" he persists as he refuses to let my hand go and tightens his grip.

"Yes," I repeat more firmly as I look away.

Where's a damn hole big enough to swallow you up when you need one?

For the second time today a car horn blares out behind me making me jump but at least it makes Jane finally let go of my hand. I move off and apart from the odd comment from him about the weather, we're silent for the rest of the journey to the CBI.

Once there I can't get out the elevator and down the corridor to my office quick enough. I leave Jane behind walking slowly in my wake and it's with some relief that I open the door to my sanctuary. Before I can go in however, Rigsby stops me and lets me know that Cho is interviewing Marla and that he and Van Pelt are on their way out to bring in her boyfriend. I nod that it's fine. I know they can handle it.

He walks off and I see Jane just turning the corner so I quickly duck inside my office then shut and lock the door. I need some time alone to think about what he said to me. To decide whether it really means what I _hope_ it does or whether I'm just reading too much into it again.

I'm not sure how long I sit there with everything just churning around in my head but it must be a while because when the door opens it's Jane coming in carrying a steaming mug of coffee.

"I locked that," I say more out of habit than any real annoyance.

I'm not surprised that he's got in. I've long since resigned myself to the fact that there's not a lot that can stop Jane doing exactly what he wants, when he wants.

He merely smiles at me then moves around my desk until he's standing right by my side. He places a hand on top of the back of my chair then leans forward and slightly across me to put the mug down on my desk. I can feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the sharp scent of his aftershave so reminiscent of the night we danced together.

I want to touch him. Badly. But I don't.

He shifts back and I sure he's going to move away but instead, he leans in close to my ear and whispers, "Don't overthink this, Teresa."

His breath tickles my ear when he speaks and then, just for a moment, I feel the briefest touch of his lips against my cheek. My eyes slide shut of their own accord at the contact and when I open them again, he's gone.

I exhale slowly as I ponder his words. He knows me so well. _Too_ well.

Worse than that, he's right.

But as much as I want to do exactly what he says and let whatever happens between us happen, I just can't. It's not who I am. Because deep down I know I want all of him. Not just for a few days or a few weeks or a few months but for good. There's no-one else for me and until I know that he feels the same, I'm going to keep things as they are.

If he wants me then he's going to damn well have to work hard to get me.

I just hope that he does.

END CHAPTER 5

**A/N: Did this chapter a little different, hope you all liked it - let me know what you think :) Looking forward to the next chapter where she's had her dream about him...now do I let you all know what it was all about or do I still leave it to your fruitful imaginations? I'll have to think about that, LOL!  
**


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